The glorious and triumphant return of now-19 year old Blogger, the revival of a once-grand and dare I say influential webspace that produced daily content, and the crippling anxiety of a young woman who no longer has any time or motivation to write, and feels like any ability she had acquired in the past through repetition and sheer will alone is now slowly slipping out of her grasp. Brief history of the Blog and Blogger can be found here.

Here be personal journal entries, observations, slices of life, questions and conclusions, as well as exploration of social and political topics seen through the lens of a Malaysian Muslim, feminist, lesbian, Marxist, and horse enthusiast.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Jigsaw

And I'm on fire when you're near me
And I'm on fire when you speak

I told my sister that I find it funny how stuff at school doesn't affect me at home. I mean, sure, when I come home from school, I might sit in the shower for a long time, rethinking major life decisions but otherwise? I don't think school has much to do with my life at home. My friends being a different matter entirely, of course. The same is also true the other way around. I can be as happy and effervescent as I can muster at home and yet at school, I'm always going to be this cynical, snarky, sarcastic bitch who fakes enthusiasm and optimism at every little corner. I'll never successfully be able to bring Home Me to school and School Me will never go home with me, not really. 

And therein lies the problem. 

There's so much more than empty conversations
Filled with empty words

Yesterday, approximately 4.30 in the evening. 
I promised myself, absolutely swore an oath, hoped to die, crossed my heart and nothing else, that I wouldn't spoil myself this year. I wasn't going to look at red carpet photos beforehand. I wasn't going to even think about who was going to win (ignoring the fact that I had memorized all the nominees in a few select categories). No spoilers. Not until 8. Beforehand, I had went to talk to my sister and can you believe I was actually crying about D? But my sister (in a rare bout of rarity) managed to cheer me up by rhyming a few words. Anyways, I was eating a cheese tart and scrolling through Tumblr on my iPod. Dashboard's practically dead so naive little me thought, why not? 

Saw what you can only guess I saw. This is what happened following said seeing, in this order: turned off iPod and threw in on the floor. Screamed obscenities and different but loud variations of "ugh". Went to sister's room and told her I saw something. Sat down on the floor and started CRYING. Ate tart. Ate cake. Still crying minutes later. Still eating. Crying. Eating. Alternating and etcetera. 

You are the hope I have for change
You are the only chance I'll take

Today, this beautiful morning until 2.00 in the afternoon. 
School, man. What can I say about school that I haven't said already? I apparently lost my nail-clipper. My inability to keep one for more than two weeks worries me to no end. I guess I excited myself a little too much in the morning by browsing through endless Chris Colfer Tumblr pages and eating cake (that is what I call 'having my cake and eating it too'. Also, the expression 'icing on the cake' also applies in the most literal of ways). Went to school and sweet Hanna told me that she thought of me when she found out Chris won. How sweet. Made me feel warm and fuzzy. Talked about dresses with Hanna because we are actually quite suave and sophisticated people. 

I can't remember the first period much (Islamic Studies) but I talked to Zaza mostly. I also miss lovely Nadiah, whom I've been giving a hard time lately but I think I just grow snarkier during my period period. Also, a hundred percent more emotional (if the whole Chris, cake and cries thing gave any indication). Was just itching to fall asleep during Maths. I am a better teacher at teaching myself Maths. I am a hundred percent sure of this (another thing that makes the whole thing boring is that the person before me has conveniently scribbled out every single answer to every single question and they're all correct so far so it's not like I have to stretch my brain cells or anything). Recess was a pain in the ass because while the canteen was spotless the day before, today was a disaster. I do love Violet, though. 

No teacher for PE, as per usual, and talked to Pri and Thivyaa up front and it was quite nice, actually. I mean, I don't know what was up with Pri today but she seemed more... hyper than her normal self. A one day thing? I don't know. History. Instead of hearing her teach, I just did my homework. Very humble girl coming through. But seriously, though, History is on par with Maths, nominated for the same category which is SNORE, because - believe it or not - history kept on repeating itself with Stupid Sonia and her stupid book stories. SNORE. KH was actually fun and I'm actually going to make something useful this year. I was thinking that after I'm done with my project, I'd give it to someone in my family but then I told myself that that was silly and quite unlike me so I'm going to keep it for myself to keep my iPod and crap. Because I'm worth it.

Today, approximately 4 something in the afternoon until 6. 
Blue House practice. Heart sank when I found out it was to be another year of eluding the authorities because of marching but luckily, I managed to run like the wind and join up with aerobics, which isn't any Goddamn better but... well, it's marginally better. I've got Sasha and Intan and Shalini, I think, among others and everyone seems quite friendly so far. Plus, it's Izarra! Anyways, happy and all of that. Must concede to the fact that it's not all entirely useless. Maybe it's the growing seniority in me but I feel just a little bit of protectiveness for my house.

I'm standing on the edge of everything I've never been before
And I've been standing on the edge of me
Standing on the edge

Then again maybe it was the two cups of coffee I had. 

Right now, right here. 
The problem being that I come home and I just feel like I can do anything. Be anything. Want anything. I come home and I'm the person I know I can be all the time. And then I go to school. I go to school and I'm thinking, "They don't like me. They don't like me because I'm different." I know like a thousand and one people who say things like, oh, geez, I'm so alone and lonely and nobody understands me, but I don't think even half of them knows what it's like to be an outsider. I'm not playing myself up and I'm not saying that I'm someone I'm not. Contrary, in fact. 

They tell you where you need to go
They tell you when you need to leave
They tell you what you need to know
They tell you who you need to be

Confession time? I've kind of been thinking about talking to my parents about this. Last resort or something, right? They won't help a cent, I know, but what I was thinking about was... changing schools? Home schooling? I don't know. I just... I don't exactly think that changing schools will help any. I mean, people are people and they're bound to be the same types anywhere, right? But I just don't think Sri Aman is for me. It's not... conducive to my personality. It's just not where I want to be heading. These people are just not the people that I want to associate myself with. Sorry. Sorry for all this morbidness.

Give me everything you are
Give me one more chance to be near you

And before you think this has anything, anything at all to do with what I've been struggling with these past few days, just don't even go there. Because I... that's a whole different story altogether and I'd rather not go down that path because I kind of went there in History class while Stupid Sonia got her stupid dues, and let me tell you something: it wasn't fun. It was painful. It hurts. It brought forth ten thousand and one feelings that I don't even want to face, much less acknowledge. It's over, isn't it? It's supposed to be. It's supposed to be so far behind me that I can't even see it anymore. Sadly, sometimes all I think about is that missing piece of the jigsaw puzzle. 

When everything inside me
Looks like everything I hate

No comments:

Post a Comment